Free Something About Witches by Joey W. Hill Page A

all parts of her the same way. Though he’d told her she had tremendous potential as a witch, when it came to this, it was more basic than that.
    At the end of the day, doesn’t matter who or what you become. It won’t change how I feel. We’re just two people doing our best to figure out each other’s hearts, and that takes more lifetimes than even I have. But I’d spend every one of them with you trying to learn. Trying to make you happy.
    But what she’d become
could
change how he felt. She knew it. “I love you,” she whispered again, her voice broken with the weight of all the knowledge she now held about love and loss.
    “I know that, girl.” He put his jaw alongside her temple. His hands cradled her breasts gently now, his body a reassuring bulwark. “Though it’s nice to hear.”
    She closed her eyes. She shouldn’t have said that, even here in this fantasy world. It was time to end it. “Will you turn off the lantern? I want to sleep with you in the hayloft.”
Touch you in the dark.
    “I’m sure I could conjure a saddle blanket or two to make that happen, protect this pretty, soft skin of yours. Hold on.” His hands slid away, though one lingered on her buttock, gave it a firm squeeze before he moved to the table, leaned over the lantern. She turned her head to savor that one last look at him before the fantasy was gone. It was good she was going to be leaving tomorrow. She needed to put some distance between her and this room. She’d never, ever use it again. She’d make Raina promise not to let her.
    He was studying her in almost the same way, as if memorizing the way she looked. She imagined what he was seeing; her in the red corset, tied up for him, his seed still damp on her thighs.
    Leaning down, he cupped the top of the lantern, blew it out.

S HE WAS AGAINST THE WALL, EXACTLY WHERE SHE’D started, except at some point she’d slid down to sit, her legs folded up in front of her. She was still fully clothed, though her panties were soaked, telling her she’d actually had the intense orgasm she’d experienced in the fantasy. The skin between her shoulder blades was sore and throbbing, as if the brand had marked her in truth. That bit of information startled her, but not as much as what was directly across the room from her.
    Braced against that opposing wall, though still standing, Derek stared at her. Between them, next to the candle and pedestal, the branding iron lay on the floor. The residual magic was still sparking off it.
    She was sure she lost all color in her face, because when she shot to her feet, she swayed, uncertain of her balance. Fumbling for the latch, she flung the door open and fled into the hallway.
    The room was on the second level. Though she knew navigating the steep winding staircase of an antebellumhouse when one was reeling from universe-altering climaxes and complete panic was inadvisable, she hit it at a run. As a result, she stumbled on the third step. Grappling for the banister, she lost purchase, flailed.
    In that harrowing moment, when she teetered on the brink of physical catastrophe, she wasn’t too worried. She’d given Raina the most important instructions, after all. Dying might deal with all of it, and wherever she ended up, Heaven or Hell, she wouldn’t have to face this. She wouldn’t keep making the wrong choices, over and over.
    “Ruby.”
She fell against a dense wall of air, one that caught her at a forty-five-degree angle before she could pitch down the stairs. True to a sorcerer’s nature, he pulled that power right from the closest elemental, the sturdy old oak of the stairs. For a second, as that energy surrounded her, she could feel the last day of the oak’s life, the recipe of a summer day; warm wind, animals foraging and hiding among the full greenery of the trees, the intent heat of the sun.
    She struggled against it, the unique, seductive touch of his magic, but it held her as easily as a butterfly in a net, easing her upright